


The reality of dreams

by undercover_chicken



Series: The Twilight Zone [4]
Category: Guardians of Ga'hoole - Kathryn Lasky
Genre: Alternate Universe, Egg Smashing, Gen, Mirror Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undercover_chicken/pseuds/undercover_chicken
Summary: He dreams of flight, unknown lands, and past lives in a glittering prison far away.





	The reality of dreams

**Author's Note:**

> We know that a dream can be real, but who ever thought that reality could be a dream?  
> -Rod Serling, The Twilight Zone

In a land far to the west, a land of great mountains with twisted and gnarled trees that cling grimly to their sides as they fight against the howling wind and bitter cold, a land of perpetual winter, with strange owls that resemble the Syrth’gar in many ways, but are blue. Blue, as if the very cold turned froze them this color, and they never regained their natural browns, whites, and blacks. A land over a sea so large that it is called by these owls the Guanjo-Noh, or Sea of Vastness. Welcome to the Jouzhenkyn.

The first visitor here from the Eastern Kingdoms was a young Spotted Owl called Ivar, who dazzled the court and won great favor due to the fantastic contraption that he bore in lieu of a real leg. He spoke of a great owl who had fashioned him a new leg out of metal, after his own Glaux-given one had been removed in a battle. Imagine Ivar’s surprise when the very owl who had fashioned his leg had followed him not long after!

Theo. He is known for many things, including being the first blacksmith, but perhaps the most singularly remembered invention that he came up with is the battle claw. No other weapon, not even the ice weapons of the far North, can compare to them in sheer effectiveness in killing. All of this weighed heavily upon the mind of Theo. He had left the Great Tree, knowing that he had invented something that had completely and utterly changed the owl world, and not in a good way. He had simply been trying to help defeat those who had been abusing magen, and instead unleashed something terrible upon the owl world. 

Theo hated magen with a passion-it was one of the reasons that his family had been torn apart. His father had left to go fight in the wars over the artifacts, and came back twisted and strange. He was abusive, and often did not seem in his right mind, being especially prone to violent and sudden mood swings. Theo’s little brother Shadyk was stunted in growth, and Theo was almost sure that it was a side effect of the magen passed on from his cursed father. He had also lost his favorite uncle to the magen wars. All he saw was how the wars were tearing the owl world apart, and he eventually became so sick of it that he simply left.  
Theo was determined to right the wrongs he had wrought. He taught the owls of the Jouzhenkyn how to tame fire for their own uses, but he didn’t show them how to craft weapons. Instead, he showed them ways to use it to create, and not to destroy. Never once did he even mention the possibility of weapons. 

Eventually, Theo retreated to a mountain high in the tallest mountains. Few dared to seek him out. Those who did were those who were the purest of the gizzard, and the strongest of heart and will. Hulong Mountain, it came to be called. The Mountain of Time, for it seemed to be timeless, never changing.   
Within this mountain, Theo refined his teachings. One of his students was the one who came up with the Danyar, the Way of Noble Gentleness. Theo knew that there would come a day when those in the Owlery would have to defend themselves from those with less than noble intentions. He recognized that not all owls possess gallgrot, and most certainly, there are many who do not possess the willpower to subjugate their natural desire for power. He was the one who encouraged young Meng to develop Danyar, and then promoted her as the first danyk, or teacher of the Danyar. When asked what title he wished to be called, he would simply refer to himself as one with his “H’ryth”, which was the leader of the owlery would come to be called.

It was almost a decade after he arrived at the Hulong Mountain, when change arrived in the winds that would test Theo’s dedication to his new order and beliefs to the fullest, as well as the faith that the owls of the Jouzhenkyn held within him. A gong was rung in warning as a large group of dark birds descended upon the Mountain like a cloud of dark omen. The majority landed respectfully on the lower platforms below the entrance to the mountain, and showed no hostility towards the pikyus and danyks. Only one, the largest of the lot, detached himself from the main group. Flying upwards, he bowed, and looking at Theo out of his piercing yellow eyes, he introduced himself as Dowager, and he requested sanctuary for himself and his people. A private meeting was held between the two, even as Meng and the rest of the pikyus vehemently voiced their unified concern and dissent to the idea of Theo being alone with that creature. 

It was some time later that both Dowager and Theo emerged, and of what had transpired between them, nothing was said. Dowager and his people left, and nothing more was said. None of the strange, fearful dark birds were ever seen again. Shortly after, the last Emperor of the royal court died, riddled with genetic disease from centuries of inbreeding. Everyone turned to Theo, hoping he would take up the mantle. Instead, he promoted a strange azure owl with sweeping, ragged feathers as the new Dowager Emperor. The Emperor and his court moved in, and the old, ineffectual court moved out, as did the eighth astrologer. The astrologer moved to the Hulong Moutain, and it was here that he confronted Theo on some of the things that he had seen. He made some more important predictions, and then faded mysteriously into the mists of time. 

The Panqua Palace was a royal court no longer. It may have kept the trappings, but it did not serve the original purpose that it had once had. In his last writings, the astrologer once noted that it was “simply a vessel, a storage place of great power, that would someday reawaken to set the world to rights. Someday, when then phonqua has run its full course, a butterfly will disturb the universe and nothing will remain the same…”

Phonqua. More than just a word, but a concept that no Hoolian owl would recognize, nor would they probably have but a basic understanding of it. The ones who would perhaps understand it the best are the Glauxian Brothers to the far North. Put most simply, it could be considered a cycle of lives, where one was continually reborn until they atoned themselves of past sins. It is a common belief in the kingdoms of the Jouzhenkyn. For owls that live several hundred years or more, they have much more time to contemplate the mysteries of life than their shorter lived brethren to the East, far across the Guanjo-Noh.

However, not all owls live as long as others here. A typical owl of the Eastern Kingdoms will live twenty to forty years, perhaps longer if they are lucky. The dragon owls of the Panqua Palace, however, are lucky if they live more than ten. Their lives have been compared to that of a butterfly, a short life filled with beauty and splendor one day, and then gone the next, their whole life over before one could blink an eye.

The dragon owls are perhaps the most well-known for their spectacular plumage. It flows behind them up to twenty feet, and they may only fly with the help of special quis and the coordination of multiple handlers. It is considered a great honor to work for these great owls, and many vie for the position to serve as a servant in the Panqua Palace. 

Taya is one of those servants. She is a servant that has loyally served the Palace for several centuries, and it is a running joke among her peers that the day she leaves will be the day the palace falls apart around them. She may not be the head steward, but it is she who does most of the day to day general running of the facility. She strictly adheres to the rules set down by the first H’ryth about how the palace should be run, and rules later amended by the second H’ryth, Meng Theosang.

There are rules on everything from feather care to etiquette to feeding. The dragon owls live in this mockery of a life, but they say they are paying for their past sins. What these sins once were, Taya doesn’t know, but she believes that these transgressions must have been great. What could these owls have done in a past life that earned them such a mockery of an existence? A robbery of their own owlness, the catching of prey, their gift of self-powered flight? Taya does not hold the dragon owls in contempt like others do, but she does pity them. A bird that cannot even fly but must depend on others for the illusion of flight is not even a bird at all.

Disturbing news has just come in, and now Taya must deal with it, as she knows the high steward won’t. He never does. She ends up following the blathering, flustered page to the room, and is stunned by what she sees. An egg. Every one of the servants who work at the palace know that the gray eggs laid by the dragon owls are sterile. It only if they are colored that they are brooded, for those are the ones that hatch more dragon owls. This egg, however, is not the bright purples, greens, or blues that are the sign of a healthy dragon owl egg. No, this one is black, a dark ebony that rivals that of the darkest night, with an oily shimmer that only adds to the illusion of darkness.

The egg has been brooded by a purple dragon owl called Oolong, who is the mother to many a dragon owl in the Palace. She has had over fifty offspring, and the one thing that gives her more joy in her empty existence than anything else is bringing new life into the world. She would often cry for hours after the sterile eggs were taken away, and often begged that she be allowed to keep them.

Protocol dictates that all sterile eggs be immediately destroyed. This egg, though, is like nothing Taya has ever seen before. A sobbing Oolong is being restrained by several other servants, as she begs them to allow her to return to her nest, where the dark egg is nestled in between several of its brightly colored brethren. Taya is about to speak and issue orders, when the head steward sweeps in, and takes one look at the egg. “Destroy it,” he says shortly, “and see that the others are brooded by someone else. Oolong obviously cannot be trusted to raise them, nor can she be trusted to ever raise her own clutches again.” With a sweep of the cape he wears, the steward is gone. An agonized cry springs from Oolong’s beak as one of the steward’s aides snatches the egg and flies away with it. Seconds later, the sickening, wet sound of an egg smashing upon a hard surface is heard. Oolong breaks down into sobbing keens, a shadow of her former self.

The other servants are silent, looking nervously at each other, which leaves Taya to take charge, just as she always does. “Well, don’t just stand there! If these eggs go cold, we will lose the next generation of dragon owls, and who knows how that will affect the phonqua?”

A large, elderly turquoise female called Elab volunteers to add the eggs to her own brood, and then quietly tells Taya to please inform Oolong that she may visit them whenever she pleases. Taya takes one look at the servants clumsily attempting to move the eggs, and decides she must go and make sure that the clumsy servants don’t drop them. There have already been too many smashings today. “Orlando,” she calls to a young male dragon owl standing nearby, “will you please watch Oolong until I get back?”

Orlando is not quite sure what to do with the sobbing mass of feathers that Taya has asked him to watch. He has never been comfortable around other owls, especially not the females of his species. As he sits there awkwardly next to Oolong, he feels that he should at least do something, and not stand there like a useless lump of feathers. Carefully moving so as not to hit her with his oversized tail and primary feathers, he gently reaches out and awkwardly puts one of his wings over her, like a parent owl would do for their chicks. He dimly remembers his parents doing the same when he was smaller, and an older palace servant who looked after him when he was older would also put her wings over him and the other juvenile dragon owls when they would return from unpleasant visits to the spirit realm after they woke.

It is said that you experience your past lives when you fall asleep, when you enter the spirit realm. Orlando knows that he must have had many. Every time he visits the spirit realm, what he witnesses is different. How many lives have I wasted here? He wonders. How many lives have I wiled away the time with, trapped in this palace, the hellish prison of splendor, where there is no point to anything at all? What is the purpose of the phonqua? Haven’t I already paid for whatever it is I have done? Is there even an end to the cycle or am I cursed to repeat myself until the end of time?

“No, the cycle is nearing its end.” A voice startles the young owl out of his thoughts. Surprised, he looks over and sees Elab looking at him over of the tear-streaked face of Oolong. Orlando realizes that he must have spoken the last of his thoughts unintentionally. “It has to be. The eighth astrologer wrote that the death of an egg as dark as night would herald the beginning of the end. Great evil has managed to tear through and return to this side of the ether veil. I refuse to believe otherwise.”

Elab is an owl of few words, but great wisdom. She is the oldest dragon owl living, an incredible fifty years old, five times older than any other. Elab has seen much, and devoted much of her long life contemplating the teachings of the astrologers, especially that of the eighth. She has always adored young things, just as much as Oolong, but in a much different way. “It is no longer safe here, Orlando. I have heard talk, talk of bad things, terrible things, within even the palace itself. Evil has reared its ugly head here. And the smashing of an innocent egg is one of the greatest evils, the greatest travesty one can commit against Glaux. I have heard reports of burnings to the far south, burnings of books and belongings, and even other owls. There has been a great cry to completely wipe out all of our kind. Jouzhenkyn is no longer safe for us, or any owl for that matter.”

“What must we do? Or is there anything that can be done at all?” Orlando inquires with a hint of desperation.

Elab looks over at the incoherent Oolong, and then up at the stars themselves. “I do not know,” she says finally, and when she does, she speaks slowly, and unsurely. “The eighth astrologer was never clear when he wrote out his predictions. There is much we don’t know. He spoke of great destruction, but also of a butterfly that could disturb the universe.” Elab turns her head to look down at the shorter Orlando, and speaks with a hushed voice. “The key to ending the phonqua is in the East, I know it. It is the only thing that the astrologer was clear about. He made very sure to make that point well established.”

“If only there were someone who could fly there and find this key!” Orlando laments.

“There is no one who can be trusted with such a task.”

Orlando ponders Elab’s words, and as he does, he feels a stirring of an idea deep inside. It is said that the dragon owls do not have true gizzardly feelings like the true owls do, but to Orlando this idea feels right. He cannot explain it other than he feels it in that imaginary organ he isn’t supposed to have. He turns to Elab. “If there is no one whom we can entrust with such a task, than I shall do it myself. I shall do as no dragon owl has done since time immemorial. I shall not glide with the help of the qi. I will truly _fly._ ”

Elab looks startled for a moment, then the look of surprise is replaced by a look of approval. “Yes Orlando, but you will need help. Let us go to the library and see if we can find some books on how to do so. We must also find a knife.”

Orlando is so swept up in grand visions of swooping through the sky he almost misses the last part. “Knife? Why is a knife essential to our plans? I can’t see why…”

“Feathers, Orlando. One of the reasons we cannot truly fly is our feathers are far too long and heavy. If you are truly going to fly on your own, then those long feathers have got to go!” Elab calls back, as she is already halfway out the door.

He looks after her, beak hanging open, and wilfs. “Wait, what?”

**Author's Note:**

> Oh hey, look what else I found hiding out in my computer. Apparently there is a terrible part four that I forgot that I ever wrote.


End file.
